


Get Home

by pavloverly



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, and im not that good of a writer anyways, so it may be bad lmao, this is the first time ive attempted writing sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 08:42:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6747046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pavloverly/pseuds/pavloverly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Except it wasn't anything like their younger days. Patrick had a wife now, and, holy shit, <em>what the fuck was he doing?</em>? He had never been able to say no before. There was no way he could now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Home

**Author's Note:**

> ook kok im kinda shitty at this right but lauren always did it better than me,

It wasn't as if it was planned or anything. At least, that's what Patrick kept trying to tell himself as he was being pushed down onto the bed in the room of some run-down motel. 

The hiatus was supposed to be an escape from this. Fuck. _Fuck_. He was so fucked. 

A strong hand was pressed firmly to his chest, keeping him down, fingers splayed. If he concentrated hard enough he could make out the small words tattooed on the inside of the fingers. Directions to Neverland. It all seemed so stupid now. They weren't getting any younger, that was for fucking sure, if their rushed movements weren't enough proof that this was just like their younger days, when they could fuck around and it wouldn't mean a single thing. 

Except it wasn't anything like their younger days. Patrick had a wife now, and, holy shit, _what the fuck was he doing?_? He had never been able to say no before. There was no way he could now. 

He closed his eyes and let his head drop back against the pillow. The hand migrated south, and both hands were working at Patrick's belt and pants now. He lifted his hips and the clothing item was yanked off of him. 

Any semblance they had before had been thrown out the window in a hurry. Light nips at the skin turned into rough biting. Gentle hands had turned into grabbing. 

It was a toxic relationship to both of them, yet neither of them cared enough to stop it. Pete pulled off his shirt in one motion, then unbuckled his pants with one hand and tugged at the hem of Patrick's dress shirt with the other. 

Sighing, Patrick complied. After undoing the last button, he glanced up to find Pete staring at him. They were fading fast, losing that connection between the two of them that tethered them both back to the face of reality, and the nagging question that bothered them both; if things would (or even could) ever be the same again. 

As Pete inched closer to him, Patrick considered this, and came to a conclusion. They couldn't salvage what had been lost. Patrick was doing this for Pete, and if he was being honest, he didn't know if his friend of ten years needed this, or if he was doing this to Patrick to fuck him up some more. 

His hands found Patrick's shoulders and he slid the shirt off and flung it across the room, really not giving a shit where it landed. 

Patrick shifted awkwardly underneath Pete's gaze. He knew he would never see him as anything but a plaything. The way Patrick felt about Pete had never been uttered aloud to a single soul. 

Pete scowled as Patrick turned his head in rejection. If Patrick didn't understand, then he would _make_ him understand. Pete leaped at Patrick, latching onto his neck, biting the soft skin. Patrick tried to push him away but Pete was stronger, and Patrick knew that Pete would always get what he wanted. 

Patrick went lax, and he felt the bastard grin against his neck. He let Pete have his way with him. Every kiss was painful for Patrick. He wanted this, but he never let himself imagine that he could have it. He had always imagined that this would happen under different circumstances. Patrick wanted to confess. Badly. 

He was wrapped tight around Pete's finger like a guitar string and its tuner. He wanted this, no matter if he knew how badly this could end up for the both of them. He could never stop it, even if he had the power to. 

Pete urged Patrick to lie down again as he looked for the lube that was always somewhere in these drawers. He uncapped the lid and drizzled some of the liquid onto three of his fingers. 

Kneeling in between Patrick's thighs, he took the peroxide's blood-swollen dick in one hand and jacked him off slowly, the teasing way Pete knew he hated. 

A moan caught in the back of Patrick's throat as Pete made contact with his cock. He lapped at the head, keeping a tight grip as he moved his thumb up and down the base of Patrick's erection. Patrick was gasping, a pillow propping up his head to see Pete work. 

He prodded two fingers at Patrick's hole before sinking two fingers in without warning, and Patrick made a keening noise at the feeling. It had been a month since they last did this. 

Pete worked his two fingers deeper inside Patrick and went down on him, teeth scraping lightly against the the member when he lifted his head and rubbed his tongue against the underside. 

Patrick moaned at the sudden wet heat sinking down on his dick. His hands scrabbled for purchase on the thin sheets of the bed. Pete removed his mouth with a slick pop, and worked more intently on the two fingers inside Patrick. He was breathing heavily. 

Pete crooked his fingers upwards and Patrick's entire body jerked with pleasure. "Fuck- do that again, please, Pete, oh my god," 

So Pete did it again, and again, and Patrick's voice was wrecked and his broken moans caught in the back of his throat. Patrick's high pitched whining told him he was close. Just before he could come, Pete wrapped his fingers tight around the base of his cock, and kept prodding at the bundle of nerves with two fingers, slipping in another digit to stretch Patrick further. He groaned in frustration at the orgasm denial, but didn't voice his complaints out loud. 

The blonde's thighs were shaking, muscles clenching and unclenching. Pete removed his fingers and started biting and licking at the creamy and unmarred skin, leaving bruises. 

"Get up here and fuck me, you prick." Patrick huffed, spreading his legs wider in invitation. Well. Pete couldn't say no to that. He kneeled on the bed, grabbing the lube and poured some into his hand, slicking up his cock. Patrick was watching with a dazed expression. 

Pete put his hands on Patrick's knees and he snapped back to reality, locking eyes with Pete as he crawled on top of Patrick. His legs wrapped around Pete's waist and he glanced down, then glanced back up again. He whispered in a broken voice, tightening his legs, "Please," 

Pete snaked a hand down to where Patrick was open and ready, and with one gentle thrust, Patrick's eyes fluttered shut and Pete dropped his head into the crook of Patrick's neck. 

After a silent minute or maybe millennia, Patrick grunted and clenched around Pete, "Move," 

Drawing back out almost all the way, he slammed back in, rewarded with Patrick's sigh and the slap of skin. He kept up a rhythm, thrusting into Patrick for some minutes, enjoy the warm, tight heat around him, until Patrick pushes him up by the shoulders. 

He gazes at Pete for what seems a while, before putting a hand on the nape of his neck and crushing their mouths together in a suffocating kiss. It's messy, but it works for them. Pete hips cant backwards and forwards again as he bites at Patrick's bottom lip before sealing their mouths together. Pete licks into Patrick's mouth, Patrick reciprocating by meeting Pete halfway. His nails find his back and they dig in. They break apart for air when Pete lets his forehead drop against Patrick's. 

He hitches Patrick's hips up higher using a pillow, and intertwines their fingers, which - hey, that's weird. They've never done that before. 

He searches Patrick's face for an expression, and he doesn't want to believe what he sees in Patrick’s eyes. He hides away again in Patrick's neck, biting and sucking at the pulse point as he pulls out all the way and slams back in again, Patrick gasping and moaning. He presses Patrick's wrists into the bed as his thrusting grows erratic, not caring if he's actually hitting Patrick's prostate or if he's enjoying it. 

The singer’s hips are shoving downwards in an effort to meet Pete's, his legs bracketing Pete's hips, and filthy moans are escaping his mouth. He's panting and whining, and Pete lets go of one wrist to jack Patrick off at the same time. 

Patrick clenches around him, and all Pete can think is how hot and tight and wet and perfect it is, matching the stroke of his hand with the intensity of his hips. 

He thumbs underneath the head and Patrick comes with a whine, tightening around Pete. Pete strokes him through it as he chases his own orgasm. 

He bites Patrick's shoulder and comes with a muffled groan, spilling into him and going still. He pulls out and rolls off Patrick, trying to savour the afterglow. But there was no fucking afterglow. He had seen the look in Patrick's eyes. It was love, the "my existence is devoted to you" look, and really? Pete couldn't deal with this right now. 

He planted his feet on the ground and staggered into the bathroom, took the entire toilet roll and threw it on the bed. As he hastily threw on his clothes, he was aware of Patrick's calm and calculated gaze burning into his back. That's the part he hated about him. He knew Pete better than anyone else. 

Patrick was left feeling lonely and empty. He knew this would have happened eventually, the part where Pete had a melodramatic freak out. From what he saw. Sure, Pete will ignore him for the next couple years maybe, but that was fine with Patrick. He deserved to know, and judging by the reaction, after all these years, he never would have figured unless Patrick showed him. 

He felt like lost, like he was trying to navigate his way to a place that couldn't be reached. It had all been screwed to hell from the start, anyway. 

**Author's Note:**

> props to bastille for creating this incredible song called 'get home' - go have a listen if youve never heard it
> 
> (edited on the 23rd of feb, 2017: last sentence was slightly altered)


End file.
